I rolled my eyes and turned around. “Okay, princess. Go ahead and get undressed.”
“Just go.”
“Nope. What if you crash to the floor?”
“Then I’ll get up by myself.” I heard him hiss as he got the shoe off his swollen ankle and it thudded to the floor. Then a rather inventive string of swear words made me laugh.
There was more rustling of material and another string of dark, eyebrow raising curses.
“Kiss your mom with that mouth?”
“My mom is dead.”
My heart sank. “I’m sorry.”
“Happened years ago.”
Then a big thud had me turning around. I got an eyeful of his spectacularly muscled thigh and ass before the sweatpants were hiked over all that golden skin.
I caught a flash of more ink on his thigh before the black sweatpants covered it up. A moth?
Damn, he really was put together well. Too bad I didn’t get a look at the rest of what he had going on. Not that the sweatpants hid anything, really.
Stop looking at him.
He collapsed back on the couch and I grabbed the blanket and tossed it over him. He was shivering now. The shock of the change of temperatures and pain setting in.
“Did you unpack your meds or first aid yet?”
He pulled the heavy blanket over his shoulders and up over his mouth leaving just those silvery eyes and a mess of molasses colored curls sprouting all around his head peeking out.
“Box in the primary bathroom.”
“Got it.” I grabbed a pillow from the corner of the couch and tossed it on the coffee table before gently setting his foot on top.
He hissed and pulled away from me.
“It’s only going to swell more if you don’t put it up.” I firmly set it back on the pillow and put the ice pack over it. I pulled the blanket over his bare foot. Geeze, even his feet were attractive.
What were the odds?
Where was the flaw?
“You’re pushy.”
Oh, right, it was his mouth.
“Yeah, well, I’m used to injuries.”
His eyebrow arched again.
“My brother played hockey. Pretty sure yours is just a sprain but let’s get some Advil in you. Be right back.” I picked my way over the mess we’d made, scooping up his wet clothes and dropping them into the washer I’d spotted in the cutout in the hall.
I appreciated the design and put it in the back of my mind for my house. Space was always a premium, especially since I couldn’t resist thrifting.
I ducked into his bedroom and wound around the boxes to the bathroom. There was a neat pile of boxes labeled by the shower. The air held the scent of ginger and something spicy. Pepper maybe? I rolled my eyes, even his scent was dark and black. Figured.
I ripped open the box labeled first aid and meds. “Jackpot,” I said and grabbed the bottle of gel caps. I noticed the prescriptions bottles at the bottom of the box. “Don’t look, Pheeb.”
